440 days of running, and it leads to this :
28 miles under a winter sky, watched by small trees and faded grass.
Just the world and me, going to battle.
Hours spent in the fields, preparing my spirit - joy, discomfort, doubt - triumph, defeat - done over and over again.
The way has been traversed, the unknown and the fear are gone.
All that remains is the breathing, the striding of the legs, the cold wind beating me back.
The objects of the world speed and move around me, feeding me warmth and energy, and I am in the middle of it all.
It is time to go to war.
Today is a good day to die....
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